


Glass Stars

by orphan_account



Series: Broken Glass Stars Universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Angst, F/F, First Person, Post-Break Up, Remorse, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 18:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16142984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bellatrix ruminates on missing Hermione





	Glass Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this like a year ago... so eh.
> 
> Trigger Warning: hints of self-harm, thoughts of homicide, hints of emotional abuse.
> 
> Partly beta read. rest is grammarly.

Three years had passed only to feel like a thousand. There wasn't a day to crawl by that I didn't curse that fluttering pain in my chest whenever I thought of you when I woke up to the cold emptiness of my bed.

I used to start my mornings holding that stupid mug you loved, wishing you were still here. Now, I throw it against the wall routinely, just to mend it with a spell you taught me. I'd never admitted that I already knew - along with ten others like it - but you lit up at any chance of sharing knowledge with another soul. It's the only thing I ever could fix.

I still have your favorite jumper, that ugly Gryffindor cardigan I always teased you for. It still smells like you, and some days, I want to toss it into the fire, watch it erupt in flames so that maybe, for a moment, the scent that clouds my senses will be something other than your achingly sweet aroma.

I was never one to show more than a flicker of emotion. I buried it deep within, hoping I never had to feel because when I do, it’s an intense destructive instinct. There would be no stopping the flood of moods once it started. No one would be safe from me, whether it be love, fear, or hate.

The world couldn’t handle me as a storm, and so it forcefully tried to calm me. I was vulnerable in that state. The people closest to me tore apart my very being. So I practiced hard all my life to replace anything and everything with apathy. I finally succeeded, until I met you.

I remember your attempts to dig up my humanity and how hard I fought it. I'd stand stubbornly opposed or fight back like a child, and sometimes, I just shut down completely. It makes me smirk, remembering how'd you laugh at my immature pouts. The warmth in my chest would flow through me, but I hated it, too.

I was feeling again. But any emotion I acknowledge quickly turns to pain, because it's all connected to you.

I guess this is how I made you feel when I snapped, or couldn't control my temperament. Is this what you felt when you watched me tear myself down? Was it just as much torture for you as it was for me? I hated being so open.

I still do.

There are days where the door stays locked, and no one is let in or out. I still fear you walking back into my life, because you'd melt the hasp before I even realized I'd opened up again.

Do you remember when the outside world didn't matter, and I'd fall asleep cradled against the silk that was you? Every sensation, I can feel it skirting across my skin, pulsing with my quickened heartbeat, colliding with my universe that was you. In those blissful times, you were the remedy to everything. The contrast between who I was and who I was seen to be blurred. Your gentleness massaged my soul and made me tender.

I knew I loved you.

The mornings it would take you too long to untangle yourself from my hair were always my favorite. It gave me moments to see the cute way you crinkled your nose in frustration, only to be followed by a deep blush for being so exposed. I still can taste your lips. Your apple lip balm ghosting my tastebuds daily, taunting me. You were my favorite poison, and I hate how willing I'd be to consume you all over again. Your eyes would devour me. I'd never seen hazel eyes so dreamy like a sea of honey. They always had a sweet, loving, tone to them. I'd do anything to wake up to them again.

But was it enough to love you? I was still energy and time-consuming. I was trouble. I could see how you were always at a loss on what to do. I remember our fights. I'd get lost, out of touch, in a delusion. I'd accuse you, and you'd accuse back. I remember tears from us both as we were exasperated during my meltdowns. We were both such shattered people.

We'd try to talk, but the atmosphere was too tense. I'd blame me, and so would you.

And yet, the world was still better with you around. I loved you after all.

Though some days you couldn't figure out what to say, so you'd say nothing. You'd leave me to my own thoughts, and never understand how wrong that was.

I'm dangerous when left to myself.

No amount of magic or alchemical combinations can fix me, but I commend you for trying. We both knew I wasn't a good person, and that's why I wish I could praise you for the godsend you were.

Everyone knew I wasn't well, but you wouldn't listen. You stayed through it all, cleaning up the mess when I couldn't handle life. You've seen more blood than any person should. I can't fathom why you stayed through my insanity. I can't count the times I've laid in my own bloodstained shirts and missed the way you caressed my cheek, whispering captivating words. You were the one person to never see my scars. You just saw me. I crave the way your eyes always glistened with hope when you looked at me.

Do you remember my youngest sister; the blonde who doesn't understand her opinion is meaningless and looks at down her nose at people like they’re dirt under her Louis Vuittons. We both knew she never approved of us. I don't know what made it her personal mission to destroy us, but she wasn’t any different as a child. Narcissa was always a mirror of my traditional parents.

She never stopped her bigotry, even when you left. I can take being called traitorous names, vile slurs, anything she could throw at me - I grew up surrounded by it. The moment she targeted you, I would lose all touch with the world. No one was allowed to defile the only positive thing to happen in my life.

Narcissa and I are estranged now, probably because I broke her physically when she pushed too far. You changed my views of the world, for the better, and worse. The world was a dark place, but now it's a suspended cloudy midnight sky. There is no light to cast a sliver of hope. Blood doesn't matter, but the soul does - I'm not as pure as I wish I were.

Now you're off with some man getting ready to marry. I can't tell if I'm actually happy for you, or if I’ve fallen beyond frayed sanity.

I could kill him, you know. It would be drawn out, and I'd laugh at his misery. I could kill him, but then you'd look at me the way you should have when we met; like the monster I really am.

When did I become too much? Was it when I lost touch and tried to hurt you, or was it when I lost touch and tried to hurt myself?

I exhausted us both.

But it doesn't matter...

You have him.

I'm just a dimmed star in the sky, far away and often overlooked - and my dear Hermione, you stopped stargazing a long time ago.


End file.
